Titans Burning
by Rigel7sold
Summary: The Walls start closing in on the Titans. Rating will get progressively higher.
1. Chapter 1

Titans Falling

by Rigel7Sold

chapter one: Brisbane Burns Tonight

disclaimer: All this? Don't own none of it, except for the Night Terror. All clear? Brilliant. Enchoy.

Psimon Jones sits quietly in his Ivory Tower- in reality an abandoned apartment building in some forgotten corner of the City - where he thinks. To Psimon, thinking is being. You see, simply by thinking an occurance, he can chance it to happen. In recent months, he has used this ability sparingly. No, his time is spent thinking. The Brotherhood failed. Miserably. It wasn't even funny and it never would be. Psimon had little tolerance for failure; He briefly toyed with the idea of murdering all others involved with the Brotherhood, thus eliminating any proof of its existance, but decided it too much trouble. He knew where the Brotherhood had gone wrong. they underestimated Beast Boy, to be certain. But they underestimated Robin the most. Especially at the end. Among the party sent to capture Robin was the Night Terror. God, Psimon thought, did Robin do a number on him. Word is, NT will never walk again.

The Brotherhood's biggest problem, however, was the fact that only the Brain had any real authority over the goings on. He might as well have done it himself. And, of course, the membership was far too crowded. Psimon thought it extremely awkward to be on the same team as Mammoth, as little more than two years prior Psimon had tried to kill him with a spear. Nailed Mammoth straight through the head, Psimon remembered, and yet the rube lived yet still. Psimon realized that he had allowed himself to be sidetracked, and promptly forbade himself from eating for another week. Robin, or as Psimon liked to call him, Richard (for Psimon is a telepath of the highest order, and takes care to know his enemies) vexed Psimon so much that he'd rather not talk about it with anyone but the man himself. Recalling the Night Terror's tragic fate, Psimon realized that Richard was not afraid of the Brotherhood at all, though they outnumbered him about Sixty Five or so to one.

How can he not be afraid? Is he not human? Has he no soul? Psimon's thought whirled about his domed skull. Himself a former psychiactric student, Psimon sought a cause for this... Perhaps the traumatic experience of witnessing his parents fall to their deaths, or the dreadful work and toil and what have you regiment enforced upon him by Bruce Wayne. Psimon thought on the subject for hours on end. Coming to a conclusion that he would later describe as "Brilliant beyond the dreams of Heisenburg," Psimon's lips curled into a wry smile. He arose from his thinking position and spoke aloud, projecting the thought as he spoke.

"You aren't a hero at all, are you, Richard? No. Real heroes make a choice. You were never given one."

At roughly the same time, Kommand'r, alias Blackfire, is furtive.

Blackfire never understood why she was so reviled. Why petty theft landed her a stint in prison, albeit brief. But her thoughts were focused more on survival now than anything else. She drifted towards Earth, hoping to seek help and shelter among those who had once called her a friend.. The Spider Guild, she had found, killed her brother, Ryand'r. When she repayed the killer in kind, she upset the Guild, enough for them to put out an all points bulletin. She was now a fugitive, for the Guild held sway on many many planets. The bounty for her was obscenely high, and could only be collected if she were dead. She had a close call on Uxor, where she was horrified to find exactly what sort of hunters were chasing her. The jourey to Earth would be frought with peril... if she were careful. If not, she could get to Earth in half the time. The time for caution is over, she thought. It's time to make this right.

In Jump City, the sewers will run red, thinks the X. No, not the X... The Red Hood. The old name and identity were maddeningly awful, winking nods to the boy the Hood so despised. Robin will learn, undoubtedly. Yes, the Red Hood will teach him what happens when you screw around with people. To the Red X, it was a game. But the Red Hood is done playing games. If I want him, I'll just have to get him. Then I'll show him what's what, In Jump City, the sewers will run Red, thinks the figure.

And then there was Mammoth. Baran felt weak after the Brotherhood debacle. He had been beaten by those little rats, again, and the most important thing in his life was removed from it. He had become reasonably quiet in times recent, but would still complain from time to time, going on long tirades about precisely what he would do were he able to get his hands on Kid Flash. He comforted himself by thinking up a pretty decent way to leave a lasting imprint on the Titans, whom he was positive never thought much of him. Selinda, he remembered, would be here soon. She would know what to do. Yes. Mammoth recalled what Robin said the first time the HIVE defeated the Titans: "This isn't over." Mammoth pondered the statement, and concluded that Robin was right. It wasn't over.

It still isn't.

Chapter one End

_I'd like to thank everyone who supported me, all six of you (I totally counted). So... reviews, please. This is first in a long series, and I'm really trying the best I can at One in the Morning, so please be kind._


	2. Red Hood Reprisal

Titans Burning

by Rigel7Sold

Chapter Two: Red Hood Reprisal

Disclaimer: Okay, I don't own anything seen here, except for original characters in later chapters.

Her name was Stephanie Brown. For the better part of a year, now, she's been playing in the big leagues, so to speak. At least, she thought she was. Everyone did. It took several more encounters with _him_ for her to really figure things out. She wasn't a player. She was a pawn.

She'd started out small. Her biggest score was what they call "grand larceny." It was always about him, though. In the back of her mind, she knew. A neglected corner of her heart of hearts beat only for him. Then, she got caught. By him, naturally. A diamond heist, in which she was the only robber (she thought it was cleaner that way). She just had to get to the bike in time. But he got to it first.

The case never made it to court. Nobody, from the District Attorney to the judge himself, could give a solid explanation for why. But most described a certainty that held firm in their minds, until the case was dismisses, and all was forgotten. She had a friend she never knew about. Had she known, he likely would have been her best friend; he wiped her record clean, too.

Later that year, on the eve of another dreadful birthday, a gift was carefully placed atop her while she slept: a gift from her mysterious benefactor. Awaking in the morning, she found it to be a bizarre suit. Covering the entire body, it included a mask (which bore a skull and an "x"), gloves, boots, and a cape, as well as a stylish belt. She recognized it immediately. At that very moment, she knew what she had to do.

She had always been enamored with Richard Stantz Grayson, though she never knew that to be his name, and if she did, would never call him by it. No; He was Robin. And he was the real source of her... tendencies. She had long wished for him to take her away. It was from this desire that the commission of small, easily halted and sometimes clumsily executed crimes was born. Whether or not she ever realized it, it was a sort of cry for attention, but she took it another way: As a cry for help (which it also was).

She'd thought him smarter than he'd ever acted around her. She really hammed it up as the Red X, a byproduct of her unique sense of humor. But she also found him frustrating; how can he let a teenager throw their life away like this? Isn't it his job (that he isn't even paid for, the saint) to help people? She'd never acted The X as a particularly sane or stable individual, perhaps because of her own foibles... can he be that dense?

The X was always sort of a joke. The things she would say... about how she doesn't care about Robin (though if she didn't, she obviously wouldn't bother with him), or all that moral relativity nonsense. She knew what she was. She was a deviant. And she kept going deeper. She could barely help herself after a while.

Her affections grew darker and darker, until they seemed to turn the scale and cross into hatred. Her patience had been worn through long ago. It was at this point that her epiphany came. She was just a pawn. She'd let him control her life. She'd traipsed around in his "bad" costume and aimlessly waxed faux philosophic, in a manner that in fact served as little more than a boost for his ego. She tore at the costume until little remained. Repairing it as best she could, she fashioned a new costume, made distinct by, in place of the mask, a red hood.

This was first and foremost, a psychological move. Fun Fact: Jonathan "Jack" Napier briefly operated under the criminal alias "The Red Hood," before fate intervened and made him The Joker. In that vein, it was a warning. She was dangerous before, and now that she's given up, she'll only get worse. Arming herself with throwing daggers, razor edged playing cards (another Joker flair), and miscellaneous Red X equipment, she set out, mumbling the "game plan" repeatedly to herself. This operation had to go off without a hitch. Much to her surprise... it did.

There they were. Titans Tower, Robin's bedroom. She had the upper hand; It was night, so he would be asleep. And though his initial struggle (which was curiously directed more towards reaching the "Hot Line" than shaking her off) was devastating, she now had him right where she wanted him. A binding "x" held him fast to the wall, as she made her move. She couldn't help talking to him. She'd waited so long for something like this.

"I bet you respect me now, birdboy," she curtly began. It wasn't much of a taunt, she just loved these little power trips. She just had to remember not to overdo it. But then, she realized she would only need to keep his mouth working; the rest could go, as far as she was concerned. Well, almost all of the rest, but that's another thing entirely.

Robin was done playing games. "Who are you?", he asked, unsure whether he'd asked her that before.

She feigned a pout. Again masking her voice, she barked back, "Who do you think I am. Actually, don't answer that. You probably think I'm some punk kid with a name like Jason, or Todd. I bet you thought you had me figured out."

Pausing for effect, she turned aways briefly, then, turning back and unmasking, she spoke, "I'm Stephanie Brown!"

Robin decided it was best not to say anything, no matter how much of a surprise the reveal came as. He was right about one thing. She was some punk kid.

She moved in for the kill, or so it seemed. Instead, she violently crushed his lips against hers, roughly biting his lip and auguring her tongue into his mouth. One hand held his head. The other held one of the daggers, and crept lower and lower.

Things just got weird.

Chapter Two End

A/n-Okay, I'm not sure if _I_'m okay with the idea of Red X being a girl. It was an idea I had a while ago. Eh. I always thought the Red X was not what it seemed. It just seemed to fit. Reviews are appreciated. Danke Shoen.


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